


Six Feet Apart

by kuhlaine



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M, oh my god they were (quarantine) roommates, quarantine fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-21
Updated: 2020-04-13
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:25:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23250127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuhlaine/pseuds/kuhlaine
Summary: Having to shelter in place in New York is already difficult enough, but when Kurt Hummel's roommate decides to head back to Ohio to ride out the pandemic with her family, things become infinitely more complicated. At the very least his new quarantine roommate, Blaine, isn't too bad on the eyes.
Relationships: Blaine Anderson/Kurt Hummel
Comments: 125
Kudos: 257
Collections: Glee





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> oh my god they were (quarantine) roommates
> 
> I hope you're staying safe and healthy in these very trying times! Don't forget to wash your hands and practice social distancing!

Going into the quarantine, Kurt had thought of Rachel as both his greatest asset and biggest challenge. She was ahead of the curve when news of a rapidly spreading virus first began to appear. With a callback for an ensemble track in Wicked coming up she refused to take any chances, and had quickly evolved into an absolute nightmare to live with (or more of a nightmare, really). Kurt didn’t mind it at first — Rachel’s first measure for keeping herself safe was dedicating nearly seven hours to deep cleaning their apartment. She’d done an impeccable job — Kurt hadn’t seen the apartment so clean since the day they moved in. Hell, it was probably cleaner than it was when they first moved in. 

But things quickly took a turn for the worse. She imposed a curfew on all house guests, along with an additional rule that any guests be kept strictly in the living room. Under no circumstances were non-inhabitants allowed to enter the kitchen, either of their bedrooms, or even the bathroom. Kurt had briefly considered murder when Rachel berated his coworker who had swung by for after work drinks because she deigned to ask to use the bathroom.

Kurt is prideful, and refuses to admit that Rachel was right to be so concerned about the virus as the city gradually slows to a halt. They watch as their favorite neighborhood spots begin to close down and the shelves of their always plentiful grocery store grow barren. Kurt is able to get a seat on the subway every day during his final week of commuting to the Vogue offices in midtown — which hasn’t happened in all of the years he’s lived in Park Slope with Rachel. It’s eerie, to say the least, and he finds himself counting down the days until he’s free of the obligation to come into the office.

Kurt’s boss, Isabelle, can sense his apprehension as things in the Vogue offices grow more and more hectic. Assistants are running around frantically to try to juggle their usual work loads, along with the added task of holding down the office while their bosses are working from home. Isabelle was cleared to work from home weeks ago, but insisted on standing by her staff and helping out with the transition to remote work until the very last moment. Kurt’s immensely grateful, her presence alone is a calming beacon in a sea of uncertainty. She sends him home early on their last full day in the office, insisting that he take the rest of the day to take a much needed self care break. She even sneaks a bag of her favorite lavender bath salts into his bag before he heads out, with an attached note telling him to relax and enjoy.

Kurt has been in his apartment for approximately five minutes when Rachel arrives and dashes any bit of calm Kurt’s managed to muster on the ride home. She announces that she’s moving back to Ohio to wait out the remainder of the quarantine. It was no secret that her dads had become increasingly concerned about her remaining in New York. They’d pleaded with her to consider coming back home — it would make them feel so much better if they could at least keep an eye on her. She insists that she can’t bear to part with the city, and that it’s for the best that she stick it out — no one knows when the city will awaken once again and she needs to be ready at a moment's notice for Broadway’s eventual return. 

It’s no secret to Kurt, or anyone for that matter, that Rachel’s dads pay her rent. They agreed to alleviate the financial pressures of making rent every month for her to pursue her acting career full time. Kurt had spent several months stewing in jealousy about her ability to spend entire days doing either nothing, or bouncing from auditions to vocal classes to dance classes without a care. There had been a time when he’d hoped he could balance his own burgeoning acting career with his then part time apprenticeship at Vogue, but when Isabelle plucked him out of the sea of apprentices to be her full time assistant all hopes of managing an acting career and a full time career in fashion were dashed. In time, he gets over the initial disappointment — working for Isabelle has been a dream, and while the work itself isn’t groundbreaking or all that meaningful he knows he’s on the path to something great. 

When the subject of Rachel moving home comes up yet again during her usual Thursday night Skype call with her dads, Kurt can’t help but crane his neck and try to catch snippets of the conversation from his place in the kitchen. Her dads reveal that Hiram is temporarily out of work — the theatre where he’s served as an artistic director for the past several years had to shutter for the time being due to the quarantine. They’re financially stable with Leroy’s steady income, but can no longer continue to support Rachel. It’s a huge blow — Rachel doesn’t attempt to hide her disappointment. After she hangs up minutes later she makes her way to the living room and collapses onto the couch. Kurt keeps to himself, focusing on the onions he’s sautéing, when she breaks out into sobs.

Rachel spends the following two weeks doing her best to find some kind of income source. She has enough saved up to cover her rent for the next three months, but she’d have to seriously cut back on a number of luxuries — notably her favorite brand of organic oat milk. At no point does Kurt worry — he has enough on his plate, he doesn’t need to tack on Rachel’s problems too. The announcement that she’s decided to move back home to Ohio is shocking — he hadn’t expected her to give in to her dads. Though she’d never admit it, Broadway will always come first, her fathers doomed to always come in second. 

“Are you still going to pay your half of the rent until you’re back?” Kurt asks, not bothering to beat around the bush. It’s a difficult time for everyone, and the last thing he needs is the brunt of paying for a two bedroom apartment on his humble salary. 

“About that…” Rachel begins, biting her lip as she ducks her head — it’s her tell, she’s done something Kurt won’t be happy about.

“What did you do, Rachel?” Kurt begins to investigate the living room, looking for anything out of place. Ever since she’d sold their _shared_ coffee table so she could buy a new microphone (“For self tapes!”) he’s kept a watchful eye over their mutual possessions. 

“It’s not so bad, I swear!” she calls out, rushing into her room before returning with her laptop.

“That implies that whatever you’ve done _is_ bad,” Kurt replies, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms. 

“Think of this as a social experiment.” 

Kurt is prepared to strangle Rachel as she turns her laptop to him. It’s pulled up to a Facebook profile — it’s not anyone Kurt immediately recognizes. Blaine Anderson — definitely not anyone he knows. Kurt squints as he scrutinizes what he can see of the profile — wondering if “Blaine” is someone who went to NYADA with him and Rachel, and what he has to do with their current predicament. It dawns on him mere seconds before Rachel announces with a flourish:

“Meet your quarantine roommate!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you made it through this lil prologue - howdy! This is going to be a fun and light lil fic to hopefully boost some spirits during this very weird time. Also, I really want this fic to be a lot of fun for everyone who may be reading, so if you have any tropes that you'd like to see in this fic, please let me know in the comments! I have a very loose outline for how I want this fic to go, but honestly I just want to chock it full of some good ol' tropes. Want some enemies to lover? Oh no there's only one bed? Just say the word and I'll do my best to make it work.
> 
> Thanks so much for reading! :)


	2. Day One

Miraculously enough, Kurt actually starts looking forward to having a new roommate. Rachel heads back to Lima the following Friday, packing up the majority of her clothing and beauty products into three large suitcases and struggling to get them through the door at 4am to make it to her 6am flight on time. She’d left a slip of paper with Blaine’s contact information on the kitchen counter, informing Kurt that he would be moving in on Sunday evening, and instructing him to play nice.

At first, Kurt loathed the idea of having to share his space with a stranger. The idea of quarantining with Rachel had already seemed like a struggle, and they’d been best friends since high school. He’d been looking forward to finally getting space to himself. With the exception of the handful of times that Rachel went on vacation with her dads, he hasn’t _really_ had the apartment to himself in months. He can finally sit and soak in the bathtub for as long as he wants, not worrying about Rachel badgering him about their water bill on the other side of the bathroom door — or watch as many episodes of _Real Housewives_ as he wants, because he no longer has to share the TV.

Kurt’s first order of business on his first day of self-isolation is taking advantage of having the kitchen to himself. He busies himself with making a French omelette, using just the tiniest splash of truffle oil. Rachel hates truffle oil with a passion — out of mutual respect Kurt only used it sparingly, and made sure Rachel wasn’t in the apartment when he did so. But she was always able to sniff out the subtle scent of the oil in the air, even if she returned to the apartment hours after he’d finished cooking.

Sadly, Kurt becomes easily distracted by Twitter, and doesn’t notice that his omelette is burning until it’s too late. He scoops the eggs out of the pan with a disgruntled sigh, adding a bit of green onion as a garnish — hoping it’ll mask some of the burnt flavor. It doesn’t — the omelette is shockingly bad, Kurt doesn’t think he’s ever made something so disgusting before. He winds up throwing the majority of the omelette in the trash and settling for a bowl of cereal for breakfast instead.

It takes Kurt approximately 24 hours to fall into madness. In just one afternoon, he manages to finish the book he’s been putting off reading for months, reorganizes his closet, cleans out the fridge, and watches so much trashy reality television that it’s started to give him a headache. By day two, he’s starving for any kind of social interaction — so he FaceTimes some friends. He chats with Mercedes, who has also made her way back to Lima for the foreseeable future. They loop in Rachel, who bails on them after thirty minutes, explaining that she’d already made plans to ‘catch up’ with Finn. Mercedes and Kurt scold Rachel for giving in so easily, and warn her to make good choices.

When he finally hangs up after Mercedes has to excuse herself for family dinner, Kurt feels lonelier than ever. He scrolls through Facebook and Instagram aimlessly for another hour, realizing that most of his friends have put their new lives on pause to return to Lima. Even Santana, who had once vowed to never return to “Cowtown, USA” posts a sweet video of her singing to her abuela through a doorway, keeping a careful distance from one another. The caption is less sweet, threatening anyone who isn’t taking the virus seriously to stay the hell away from her abuela, or she’ll deliver a personal beat down as soon as quarantine is over. But it gets the point across.

Seeing all of his friends back home makes even Kurt consider heading home. The flights he finds are impossibly cheap, and he would still be able to work from home just as well in Ohio as he can in New York. But he hesitates, and ultimately decides it would be an irrational decision. His dad, while stronger every day, still has his myriad of health problems. He knows Carole has been taking on extra shifts at the hospital, not that she had much of a choice. The last thing they need is for Kurt to bring himself and all of his metropolitan germs with him. So New York it is.

* * *

Kurt thinks up new ways to keep himself entertained. He tries to go for a run through the neighborhood and up to Prospect Park, but heads home after twenty minutes. He hates running and it hurts his ankles. He tries again later in the day, choosing to speed walk this time instead. He takes advantage of the acoustics of their nearly empty apartment and practices his scales, wincing at how rusty he’s become in the last year since he’s performed. In a moment of weakness he downloads TikTok, which consumes his attention for a whopping four hours.

Sunday morning, Kurt stumbles out of bed and groans at the usually calming sound of rain pattering on the window. His speed walk through the neighborhood is out of the question now. He considers passing up on exercise for the day, but his legs are already beginning to cramp from laying on his side in bed half of the day yesterday. While cleaning out and reorganizing his closet, he had stumbled upon a stack of workout DVDs that he and Rachel had purchased from a flea market in Bushwick. They vary from Richard Simmons to vinyasa yoga to Krav Maga. He sifts through them while drinking his morning coffee, deciding to give the iconic _Buns of Steel_ DVD a try. If it was good enough for Cher Horowitz, it’s good enough for him.

He’s fifteen minutes into the video, working on his third round of _squeeze and tuck_ when he hears the front door close and an unfamiliar voice call out, “Hello?”

Kurt lets out a high pitched yelp as he lunges for the TV remote, struggling to turn the video off as quickly as possible. In his mad dash he winds up accidentally turning up the volume instead.

“No, no, no, no,” he mutters to himself as he slams the power button, but the TV remains on.

He gives up on the remote after seeing that pressing the power button dozens of times in a row does nothing, running his fingers along the edge of the TV as he struggles to find the manual power button. He can hear Blaine continuing to call out, and footsteps growing closer and closer to the living room, but he continues to keep his attention focused on turning off the TV, groaning as the video shifts from _squeeze and tuck_ to some move that involves thrusting into the air.

“Uh, you must be Kurt?”

Kurt freezes, his finger hovering over the TV power button. He presses it quickly, sighing in relief as the TV finally turns off. He straightens up, intending to turn and greet Blaine properly, only to slam his head against the decorative shelf over the TV.

“Oh god, are you okay?!”

Blaine is suddenly at Kurt’s side, careful not to touch him but watching him with worried eyes as he groans in pain. Kurt rubs at the spot where he hit his head, feeling a bump begin to form but thankfully the skin hasn’t broken.

“M’fine. Just having an off morning,” Kurt says with a sigh. “Yes, I’m Kurt. And you must be…”

Kurt is fully prepared to say Blaine’s name until he finally looks up and sees him properly. Blaine’s Facebook profile picture hadn’t done him nearly enough justice. He’s quite possibly the most handsome man Kurt has ever seen in person — which is saying a lot, he works in fashion. He looks like the one of those hyper-attractive men who play teenagers on TV, clearly unattainable but still so damn likable. His perfectly sculpted face is framed by a natural set of well-tamed curls that should be on the bottle of every deep conditioner on the market. Kurt nearly gasps when he shifts his eyes away from Blaine’s face for just a second and sees that Blaine is decked out in the same white v-neck knit cardigan he’d been lusting over in the J. Crew catalogue just last month.

“Blaine, yeah, pleasure to meet you,” Blaine finishes off when it becomes clear Kurt can’t complete his own sentence. He offers up his hand to shake, but Kurt bites his lip and shakes his head.

“Probably best if we don’t shake hands. Y’know… coronavirus,” Kurt gestures to the world outside the window behind him.

“Right, yeah, of course,” Blaine apologizes quickly, throwing his hands up in surrender and taking a precautionary step back from Kurt.

“Sorry the place is a bit of a mess right now, it’s just Rachel said you’d be getting in tonight so I—”

“I can leave and come back, if you want?” Blaine offers before Kurt can finish.

“No!” Kurt answers too quickly, wincing at his evident eagerness to have a living, breathing social companion (and a drop dead gorgeous one at that). “No, you can stay. This is your place now too. I’ll just tidy up this afternoon.”

Blaine smiles and nods before looking over to the large suitcase at his side. “So, Rachel said I’d be taking over her room?”

“Oh, right, yes. It’s over this way.”

Kurt escorts Blaine to Rachel’s room, pointing out his own bedroom on the opposite end of the hall. Rachel’s room is thankfully in pristine condition — in the weeks leading up to the pandemic her room had been particularly disastrous. At one point she had more clothes on the floor than she had in her closet.

“Awesome,” Blaine says as he steps into the room and sets his duffel bag on the bed. “I’m guessing Rachel likes Broadway,” Blaine says with a chuckle as he takes in the room.

Rachel has a full wall dedicated to playbills from every show she’s seen over the past three years, each one framed and meticulously placed exactly two inches apart on all sides. The handful of Playbills with full original cast signatures are prominently placed in the center of the wall with gold star stickers on each of the four corners of the frame.

“That’s the understatement of the century,” Kurt replies. “Rachel lives and breaths Broadway.” Blaine laughs again, Kurt doing his best not to swoon at the sound. “I’ll let you get settled in,” Kurt says before heading back towards the living room.

“Feel free to finish exercising, I’ll probably be in here getting unpacked for awhile,” Blaine calls back, leaning against the doorframe before adding, “ _Buns of Steel_ is a classic,” with a wink.

With that, Blaine heads back into Rachel’s — now his — room, and closes the door behind him, leaving a light headed Kurt reeling in the hallway. He wants to melt right into the floor or spontaneously combust, anything to get him away from the shame of embarrassment. He’s at least grateful that Blaine’s door is closed — he doesn’t see the way that Kurt has gone from pale to ripe tomato in a matter of seconds. Kurt rushes back to his own room and throws himself onto his bed, burying his face in his pillows and willing himself to calm down.

It’s fine. Everything’s fine. The world is falling apart due to a massive pandemic and he is now stuck in quarantine with the most beautiful creature he’s ever seen. Who he just made an ass out of himself in front of all because he wanted to tone his glutes. Everything’s going to be totally fine.

Kurt’s phone buzzes beneath him, and he reaches for it with a groan. It’s a text from Rachel.

_“Morning! Forgot to tell you yesterday - Blaine asked if he could move in this morning instead of tonight and I said that was fine, so he might be stopping by soon. More importantly! Finn and I are meeting up again tonight. We were interrupted by his roommates last night. FaceTime me later to help me pick out an outfit?”_

The text is followed by a dozen emojis — half of which don’t even pertain to anything Rachel said. He rolls his eyes as he composes his response.

_“Wear that little black dress we bought you last week with the pink pumps you wore for your Legally Blonde audition — LBDs are Finn’s weakness. Blaine just got here a few minutes ago. WHY did you neglect to tell me that he’s the most handsome man in the universe?!”_

_“I showed you his Facebook page!”_ Rachel responds.

_“Facebook didn’t do him justice. He looks like he just walked off the set of CW’s latest teen drama. Or a GQ shoot. Or heaven. Are you trying to torture me?”_

Rachel responds with just a _;)_ and Kurt has his answer. It’s going to be a long, long quarantine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so it begins! Here's hoping you're all staying safe and healthy! Thank you so much for reading :)


	3. Day Twelve

Kurt prides himself on being a confident, no nonsense, practical person, but in the weeks following Blaine moving in he hardly recognizes himself. He’s no stranger to sharing a space with an attractive man — he’d spent the majority of his first few weeks at Vogue fantasizing about the apprentice coordinator, Collin — a handsome, mid-thirties 6’3 man with a heavy French accent and an impeccable wardrobe. In short: perfection. But Kurt was always able to keep his cool around Collin, even if he did occasionally blush just a bit too hard whenever Collin addressed him directly. When Collin congratulated him on his promotion to Isabelle’s desk, patting him on the arm and saying he always knew he was special with a wink (a wink!) Kurt was sure that he had died moments earlier and gone straight to atheist homosexual heaven.

Kurt quickly realizes that there’s a major difference between sharing a working space with an attractive man and sharing a living space with one. Blaine is there every moment of every day — not that either of them have any choice in the matter. Kurt spends most of his day working in the living room. He lugs his sewing machine back to his room and into the closet to set up a working space at the small table beside the TV. He doesn’t have many video calls, he spends most of his days emailing back and forth with Isabelle and her assistant editor, Natalie.

Blaine spends most days working in his bedroom. Kurt’s still not entirely sure what it is Blaine does for work, but he hears his voice through the thin wood of the door every afternoon. He can’t quite make out what Blaine’s saying, but sometimes in the middle of the day he’ll break out into song, strumming along on an acoustic guitar. It’s some of the loveliest singing he’s heard in years, not that he would ever let Rachel know that.

They occasionally run into one another in the living room or kitchen in between meals and breaks from work. Kurt always tries to strike up a conversation with Blaine, but can never find anything worth bringing up. It never feels like the right time to begin trying to get to know him. It’s actually astounding how little they know about one another after nearly two weeks of being trapped in the same space for almost 24 hours a day.

When Kurt returns home from his evening walk around the neighborhood he tells himself not to stop and listen when he hears Blaine’s voice coming from his bedroom much more clearly than usual. But Kurt is weak. He takes his time untying his sneakers and placing them on the shoe rack, then takes an extra minute to fix his hair in the hall mirror, totally not craning his ear to hear more of Blaine’s conversation.

“I don’t think he likes me very much,” he hears Blaine say, and _that_ certainly has his interest piqued.

He drops the pretense and leans against the wall, far away enough to not arouse suspicion if Blaine exits his room, but still close enough to hear Blaine’s end of the conversation loud and clear.

“I don’t know, he just… avoids me, I guess? … Maybe… I’ve tried a few times but he always heads back to his room immediately after… I don’t know… It’s fine, he’s not obligated to like me, _I’m_ the one who invaded his space during a pandemic anyway…”

Kurt stops listening, feeling his stomach twist with guilt as he rushes back to his room and closes the door quietly behind him. Not only had he succeeded at making a fool out of himself in front of Blaine on multiple occasions, but he’d also succeeded in making Blaine think that he was disliked and unwelcome. Kurt allows himself a few moments to throw himself a pity party, lamenting his inability to successfully translate his daily confidence in himself and his abilities into confidence in his love life. His standards are often enormously high, and the one time someone who at first glance exceeds said standards is _literally_ stuck indoors with him all day for the foreseeable future, he bungles it. But there’s no time for self pity — he has a non-existent relationship to mend.

* * *

Over the years Kurt has found that cooking and baking is the best way for him to express his emotions. When he and Rachel had first moved in together and he held in his fury about her ‘accidentally’ spilling her morning kale shake on his newly purchased Ralph Lauren blazer, he baked her a vegan jalapeño and Sriracha focaccia. Her mouth was on fire for a week, and Kurt had successfully made it clear that he was **not** happy with her.

Kurt had once been in the process of cooking a four course meal for his now ex-boyfriend, John — slaving over the barely functioning stove in John’s kitchen for almost three hours — to celebrate John’s acceptance to his first choice law school. In the midst of whipping together a merengue Kurt received a text from a mutual friend of his and John’s — a photo message, to be precise. A photo depicting his boyfriend getting hot and heavy with his ex in the middle of a packed subway station, to be even more precise. Kurt shut off the stove in between sobs, unable to keep cooking while tears blurred his vision. He considered storming out then and there, walking out of John’s life without an explanation. But instead he hatched a plan.

When John took his first bite of linguini bolognese he spluttered and spit the food out seconds after it touched his tongue.

“Jesus Kurt, what the hell did you put in this?” he choked out, gulping down his entire glass of water.

“Salt. About five handfuls,” he replied, taking a cool sip of wine, not touching his own food.

“What? Why?” he asked incredulously, looking at Kurt as though he’d sprouted a second head.

“I have a more important question,” Kurt began, sliding his phone across the table and watching with wicked triumph as John’s jaw dropped at the sight of the photo.

“This isn’t—”

“Goodbye, John,” Kurt said storming off for good, leaving John behind with four salt soaked courses.

Kurt obviously has pure intentions for Blaine — he knows he can use his skills in the kitchen for good too. He knows that Blaine typically begins cooking dinner before Kurt does — usually heading straight to the kitchen after Kurt finishes up his work for the day and has safely retreated to his bedroom. The following day Kurt finishes up his work early, logging off an hour earlier than usual to get started in the kitchen. He doesn’t have many options — their local grocery store had been thoroughly picked over during his latest shopping trip. But he still has enough ingredients to put together something equally classic, delicious, and not overly pretentious.

Blaine cautiously steps out of his bedroom around 7pm. He approaches Kurt slowly, calling out to him from the living room.

“Whatever you’re making smells great,” he compliments, giving Kurt a shy smile when he looks up from his pan of sauteed onions. Kurt does his best not to groan when he notices that Blaine is wearing a bowtie with his polo and khakis, still so impeccably dressed when most people are working in sweatpants. It’s not something he thought he’d ever consider a turn on, but it absolutely is.

“Thanks. It’s a honey glazed salmon with brown rice,” he explains, trying to subtly gauge Blaine’s reaction.

“Sounds as good as it smells,” Blaine replies. “Mind if I start some pasta on the free burner?”

“Actually…” Kurt begins, not missing the way Blaine tenses almost immediately, “I was hoping you might join me? I made way too much for just one person, and I thought we might… get to know each other,” he offers, feeling incredibly lame all of a sudden. Blaine probably thinks that Kurt is a world class jerk, why would he want to sit down and eat with him when they’re already stuck together 24 hours a day?

“Oh, I… yeah, I’d love that,” Blaine answers, shoulders relaxing as he shoots Kurt a brilliant smile. “Can I help with anything?”

Kurt is almost too excited to respond, his heartbeat quickening and his hands shaking just slightly as he glances around at the different pots and pans to see what Blaine can help with.

“Fluff and set out the rice for me?” he asks, holding up a fork.

“My pleasure.”

Blaine takes the fork, his fingers brushing for just the briefest of seconds against Kurt’s hand as he does so. They turn to their respective tasks, Kurt grateful that Blaine can’t see the way he’s biting back an enormous grin and pink tinged cheeks. They work together in silence for the next 10 or so minutes, but it’s a comfortable silence. Blaine watches over the onions while Kurt removes the salmon from the oven, and in minutes they’re serving themselves at the dining room table.

“I’m sorry, I probably should’ve asked you before I started cooking if you even like salmon,” Kurt apologizes once they’re seated, realizing he shouldn’t have just assumed that Blaine would eat whatever Kurt served him.

“It’s fine. I have a very amenable palate. I’ll eat just about anything,” Blaine explains before taking his first bite of salmon, making an unintelligible sound around his fork. “And you should never apologize for making me eat this, because it’s _incredible._ ”

Kurt preens and lets Blaine compliment him for another second or two, because he’s damn proud of himself for pulling this together, but soon turns the focus back on the objective at hand: getting to know one another.

The conversation flows easily between them — so well in fact Kurt begins to worry that they’re destined to take a turn for the worse and learn something irreconcilable about one another. But there are no chaotic reveals, just pleasant conversation. Kurt learns that Blaine is a kindergarten teacher, which he lets out an embarrassingly high pitched _awwww_ at, which Blaine thankfully appreciates. He explains that he’s had issues keeping his kids’ attention during their daily Zoom lessons, so he’s recently taken up music to keep them more engaged. It’s caused a bit of hysteria — some of the kids get too excited about singing along — but it’s a start.

Blaine is highly impressed by Kurt’s line of work, blushing as he admits that he’s spent more time than he should on Vogue’s website over the past few weeks of the quarantine. Kurt excitedly presses Blaine for his opinion on the updated search function — a topic of intense discussion in the office during their final few weeks at the office. Blaine is on Kurt’s side on the matter — the search bar has been significantly improved.

The conversation stills just briefly when the topic of Blaine’s previous living situation comes up. Kurt words it gently, asking Blaine why he was looking for such a short term housing option — but Blaine still winces at the question. His grip on his fork tightens slightly as he sets it down on his plate, sighing.

“You don’t have to answer if you don’t feel comfortable telling me,” Kurt says quickly.

“No, no it’s fine,” he reassures quickly, giving Kurt a weak smile. “I… was living with my ex, before.”

“Oh…”

Kurt’s not sure what to say next — whether to drop the subject entirely and move on to something else, or let the silence stretch on in case there’s anything else Blaine wants to say. His mind races to find something, anything to say, but Blaine beats him to it.

“The break up was pretty convenient in the sense that it lined up with when we were supposed to renew our lease,” he says with a humorless laugh and a shrug. “I was going to move in with my friend, Sam, who was planning to move up to the city from Nashville, but he’s hunkering down back home so he can take care of his sisters. His mom’s a nurse so she has a lot on her plate already.”

Kurt nods, still wracking his brain for a response that won’t make him seem too overeager at the reveal that Blaine is indeed single. He’s still not even sure that Blaine is gay, though he has a hunch.

“I’m sorry, that’s a lot to deal with all at once.”

Blaine shrugs once again, the tension in his shoulders beginning to melt away. “It’s fine, really. We dragged out that relationship way longer than we should have. We both knew it was over in the winter, but didn’t make it official until we could barely stand to be around one another.”

Kurt resists the urge to scoff — he knows the feeling well. He’d dragged out his last long term relationship an extra two months before he finally found the courage to put an end to things.

“Been there, done that,” he mutters, rolling his eyes.

Blaine smiles, blushing slightly as he reaches for his glass of water and lifts it into the air.

“How about a toast? To new beginnings,” he proposes with a smile.

“Isn’t that a bit optimistic given the current state of the world?” Kurt replies, biting back a laugh.

Blaine chuckles, nodding in agreement but keeping his glass up high nonetheless. “Fair enough. A toast to being alone together?”

Kurt doesn’t hold back his laughter this time — it gives him an excuse for how pink his cheeks become as he raises his glass and clinks it against Blaine’s.

“To being alone together.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading! here's hoping everyone's having a safe and healthy day whatever of quarantine!


	4. Day Thirteen - Day Twenty Six

Kurt’s frustration with himself over childishly avoiding Blaine for nearly two weeks increases tenfold when it becomes clear that Blaine is the ideal quarantine roommate. With the bridge between the two mended Blaine begins spending more time out in the living room. He still works out of his bedroom, but keeps his door propped open in case Kurt wants to stop in throughout the day. Likewise, Blaine wanders into the living room every now and then for a snack or a drink, stopping to talk to Kurt along the way.

Just having another person to talk to has made life in quarantine more bearable — the fact that Blaine is a genuinely interesting person is just an added bonus. Kurt was nearly at the point where he would take conversing about economics if it meant he could just _talk_ to another human being. It turns out he and Blaine have far more in common than either of them could have anticipated. They have a shared love for musicals — Blaine admitting sheepishly that he had flipped through Rachel’s Playbill binder, despite her having labelled it as off limits. Kurt giggles and promises to keep Blaine’s secret, so long as he doesn’t tell Rachel that he’s also flipped through the binder when she wasn’t looking. They even share a home state — spending several hours one night complaining about the perils of teenagehood in smalltown Ohio.

Kurt gasps when Blaine reveals casually over dinner the next day that he had competed with his high school show choir, the Warblers.

“How did we never run into each other?!” he exclaims. He’s met plenty of people in New York with roots in Ohio, but never someone from the show choir circuit. The world of competitive show choir in Ohio is only so big, there aren’t many people that Kurt doesn’t know.

“Maybe we did? I wasn’t a very observant teenager. Honestly I’m not a very observant adult either,” he admits with a chuckle.

“No way. I would’ve remembered meeting you.” Kurt blushes, wondering if he’s come off too strong, but Blaine doesn’t seem to mind. They move on to a new topic.

When Blaine discovers that Kurt has never seen a Wes Anderson film he demands that they have a movie night ASAP. Kurt naturally agrees — it’s not like he has anything else he could be doing — but insists that he gets to pick at least some of the movies. Blaine agrees, texting Kurt a link to Wes Anderson’s filmography moments later.

Kurt is impressed by _Moonrise Kingdom_ and _The Royal Tenenbaums_ , but less so by _Fantastic Mr. Fox_ — which leads to a debate about Meryl Streep’s most iconic performances, which leads to Kurt finding out that Blaine has never seen _The Devil Wears Prada,_ which Kurt declares a crime.

In what seems like no time at all they become constants in each other's daily lives. Blaine accompanies Kurt on his evening walks, marveling at the brownstones and castle-like buildings lining Prospect Park. They try to tackle a new recipe every couple of days — Blaine takes on the savory dishes, Kurt takes charge of the sweet. Blaine quickly becomes a master of cooking improv, taking whatever random mismatched ingredients they’re able to snag from the grocery store and turning it into something unexpected and delicious. One night he prepares a sweet potato and avocado sushi roll that Kurt proudly admits is the best he’s had in years.

Sadly Kurt’s own attempts in the kitchen aren’t as fruitful as Blaine’s. He takes baby steps at first, starting off small with a walnut chocolate chip banana bread, which Blaine praises for days. His attempt at tiramisu doesn’t go as well as he’d hoped, but isn’t too bad for a first try. They come together to work on a sourdough starter, both frowning when their loaf comes out of the oven a burnt and misshapen mess.

In between baking exploits and movie nights they talk, sometimes for hours. They take advantage of the blank canvases in front of them and talk about every little thing that comes to mind. They talk about the important things — their fears, their dreams, their pasts — and the nonsensical things, like what they would bring to a deserted island, or their go to karaoke song. Even the difficult conversations, the ones where they open themselves up and let themselves be vulnerable in front of a stranger don’t feel so hard when the other is listening. Kurt could spend hours listening to Blaine talk — and in turn he could spend hours talking to Blaine, watching the way his eyes light up when Kurt’s passionate about something, and the way his brow wrinkles thoughtfully when he can see that he’s upset.

But not everything is solved by burgeoning friendship — there are still awkward moments. Kurt prefers to sleep in on the weekends, it helps maintain even a small sense of normalcy. Blaine is an early bird, always up and ready to face the day before Kurt has even begun to rub the sleep out of his eyes. Conveniently enough, their opposing schedules keeps them from running into any issues with sharing a single bathroom. By the time Kurt stumbles to the bathroom Blaine is often already showered, dressed, and preparing a pot of coffee for them to share.

Kurt should have sensed that something was off when the scent of freshly brewed coffee didn’t waft towards his bedroom Saturday morning, but he’s still too tired to make sense of anything. He’s still half asleep as he shuffles down the hall to the bathroom, blinking up in confusion at the closed door and muffled sound of humming. His brain is finally beginning to catch up when the door bursts open and Blaine emerges in a cloud of steam, covered only by a towel around his waist.

“Oh God, I’m so sorry!” Kurt apologizes when Blaine lets out a yelp of surprise, nearly slipping on the damp bathroom floor.

“I’m sorry, I—”

“No, it’s fine, I’m leaving!” Kurt shouts over Blaine’s apologies, averting his eyes from Blaine’s half-naked body and rushing off to his bedroom before he can make the situation any worse.

Once back in the safety of his room, the door locked tightly behind him, he collapses onto his bed with a groan. He wills himself to erase the image of Blaine, dripping wet and flushed from the lingering steam of the shower — but the weak, desperate side of him holds onto the image just long enough to send the message down to his cock. He shifts uncomfortably, sighing as he switches from his nightly yoga pants into a pair of loose sweatpants to relieve the growing pressure. He plugs his headphones into his laptop and opens up the first video he finds on Youtube, blasting the volume and focusing as intently as he can on Claire from Bon Appétit preparing sourdough Crêpes Suzette. He’s genuinely interested in the recipe and needs to focus so he can replicate it tomorrow — _obviously_ he’s not trying to get his mind off of the fact that he now knows that Blaine is ten times more handsome _without_ clothes on. That would be absurd.

* * *

It takes twenty four more hours before Kurt comes to the devastating conclusion that he has a massive crush on his new roommate. His sweet, adorable, kind, possibly straight, just got out of a serious relationship, roommate. It’s not the worst crush he’s ever had, but it’s definitely the most inconvenient. When Kurt finally leaves his room after the bathroom incident he jumps at the mere sight of Blaine, this time fully clothed.

“Hey, sorry again about earlier. I had a headache so I slept in a little later than usual,” Blaine says with a sympathetic smile.

“Totally fine, not a problem at all!” Kurt answers far louder than necessary, practically shouting back at Blaine.

“Cool…” Blaine replies, giving Kurt an odd look before brushing past him to get into the kitchen.

Blaine’s palm glides along Kurt’s lower back as he slides past him to get to the fridge. It’s something he’s done dozens of times before, but this time it leaves Kurt weak in the knees.

“Oh, want to finish off the last few episodes of _Tiger King_ tonight?” Blaine asks, cutting off a piece of the banana bread they’d made last night, Kurt shaking his head when Blaine offers out a bite to him.

“Yeah, sounds great.” He nods, giving Blaine a weak smile before grabbing what he came for, and rushing back to his room.

Kurt’s one saving grace is that Blaine appears as oblivious as ever to the sudden shift. He doesn’t comment on the way Kurt blushes a new shade of scarlet every time he compliments Kurt’s outfits or his hair or his cooking, he doesn’t stop those subtle touches when he walks by Kurt, or when they’re working together in the kitchen — in fact, the touches come with more frequency, much to Kurt’s simultaneous dismay and delight. One night Blaine leans over and knicks the swirl of whipped cream lingering at the corner of Kurt’s mouth with this thumb and licks it clean, moaning around his finger. The sight of that alone is enough to make Kurt so hard he has to excuse himself to the bathroom for nearly 15 minutes, which is embarrassing enough on its own. If being confined to his apartment for days at a time doesn’t drive him insane then living with Blaine Anderson will finish the job.

It takes four days before Kurt caves and tells Rachel about his predicament. He waits until Blaine heads out of the apartment to brave the mile long line to get into Trader Joe’s — which gives him at least an hour, guaranteed. As expected, the first thing Rachel does is squeal, followed by a chorus of _I knew it_ s.

“This is exactly why I didn’t want to tell you about this,” Kurt grumbles when Rachel begins to hum a victory tune. “I’ll hang up and call Mercedes instead if you don’t calm down,” he warns, which finally gets Rachel to simmer down.

“So, what’s the game plan?” she asks, propping her chin up on her hand.

“There isn’t going to be a game plan until I can figure out if he even plays for my team.”

The question of Blaine’s sexuality still lingers over Kurt. In all of their hours of heartfelt conversation the question of Kurt’s sexuality comes up plenty of times, but Blaine’s never does. Any mentions of his past relationships and heartbreaks are vague. He never mentions names, explaining that he prefers not to dwell on those aspects of his life before changing the subject. Kurt still doesn’t even have any idea how long Blaine was dating his most recent ex.

Rachel purses her lips, grabbing her phone. “Is there anything on his social media? Didn’t you say he has an ex?” she asks as she types away at lightning speed.

“There’s barely anything on his Facebook, and even less on his Instagram,” Kurt says with a sigh. He’s not proud to admit it, but he did a very thorough search of all Blaine’s social media for any mentions of his mysterious ex. Either he’s an unusually private millennial, or he’d wiped his social media clean of any mentions of his previous relationships.

“Maybe he’s a serial killer,” Rachel proposes with a raised brow.

“Then you’ll be responsible for my inevitable murder.”

She shrugs, turning her attention back to her phone. “What about Tina Cohen-Chang? It looks like she’s liked all of his Facebook pictures back until 2013.”

The name sounds familiar, but Kurt can’t quite place it. He pulls up Blaine’s Instagram, scrolling through the dozen or so photos. Three photos feature a handsome, taller blonde guy that Kurt has discovered through context is Blaine’s future roommate, Sam. Two of the photos also feature a girl with a regrettable sense of fashion (who would wear a poncho with a skirt?), but who is admittedly very pretty. She has her arms wrapped tight around Blaine’s waist in one photo — Sam wrapping his arms the both of them from behind. They appear to be on the beach, all three dressed up in ridiculous Hawaiian shirts.

_banderson: Beach time = best time! @tinacc @thesamevans_

“Well, they’re definitely close friends at the very least.” Kurt holds his phone up to his computer screen for Rachel to see.

She hums as she examines the photo. “If you like him so much why don’t you just ask him if he’s gay?” she asks, as though it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“Right, because if he _is_ straight then his **very** gay roommate having a **very** obvious crush on him totally won’t make things awkward,” he snaps back, harsher than he means to.

“Calm down, I’m just trying to help,” Rachel says with a pout.

Kurt sighs, breaking away from the spell of Blaine’s Instagram page and tossing his phone to the opposite side of the bed. “I’m sorry, it’s just a frustrating situation.”

“Maybe Blaine can help you let out some of that frustration,” she says with a wink.

“That’s it. You’re no help.” Kurt goes to hang up on Rachel, ignoring her last minute protests as he ends their Zoom call and shuts his laptop with a sigh.

It turns out he ended the call with perfect timing, as Blaine bursts back into the apartment in a huff just minutes later. Kurt peeks out into the living room in confusion — Blaine had only left about fifteen minutes ago, there’s no way he could get in and out of Trader Joe’s that quickly.

“Is everything okay?” Kurt asks as he cautiously steps towards Blaine, noticing that he’s covered in a fine layer of sweat and breathing heavily as he flits around the kitchen, washing his hands and tossing their reusable bags on the counter.

“Not exactly,” he replies as he rushes back to his bedroom, leaving the door open behind him.

Kurt bites his lip, cautiously crossing the room and hovering by the doorway. “You’re kind of freaking me out.”

He peaks into the room, watching Blaine run his hand through his gelled down hair as he types away on his laptop. “I’m sorry. Something really unexpected just came up, and I have about thirty minutes to figure out a solution.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Kurt offers, feeling guilty just for occupying space in Blaine’s frazzled orbit.

Blaine shakes his head, turning to Kurt and giving him a weak smile. “Thank you though.”

Kurt smiles back before backing away. He retreats to his room, leaving the door open in case Blaine changes his mind about needing help. He’s on edge from the brief, rapid spike in adrenaline, his hands shaking slightly as he scrolls aimlessly through Twitter before picking up his latest cross stitching project, needing something to occupy his fingers. In only about ten minutes he looks up from his cross stitching to see Blaine hovering sheepishly in his doorway.

“So, it turns out there is something you can do to help,” Blaine says with a humorless, nervous laugh.

Kurt sets his cross stitching aside, sitting up and giving Blaine his full attention. “Yeah, of course,” he answers readily, not even considering what it could be that Blaine needs his help with. He knows he’ll do almost anything for Blaine.

“My parents called a few minutes ago. Apparently my brother has been on an off-the-grid yoga retreat in the Adirondacks for the past month.” He rolls his eyes before continuing. “None of the instructors thought to tell anyone about what was going on in the outside world, so he’s now stranded in the wilderness with no way to get back to his place in California, and now it’s my job to figure out how to get him back,” he finishes off, throwing his hands up in the air in frustration.

Kurt’s eyes go wide, but he remains silent. He can barely stand to be away from his phone for twenty minutes — the thought of going Internet free for an entire month, only to come out on the other side to an international pandemic makes his head spin, and he has no idea how he’s going to be of any help to Blaine.

“I was able to talk to my brother for a few minutes, but the reception out there was terrible. He’s going to try and hitch a ride with one of the retreat instructors back into the city. He probably won’t be able to get a new flight out to California, so we’re going to try to get him a rental car so he can at least drive to Ohio and stay with our parents.”

Kurt nods, it seems like a solid plan. “So… where do I come into this?” he asks.

Blaine swallows hard, averting his gaze to the floor and shaking his head. “You can absolutely say no to this, I know it’s a lot to ask and you’ve already been so generous to let me stay in your place in a time like this. And you’re—”

“Blaine,” Kurt cuts off, crossing the room and placing his hand (supportively, platonically) on Blaine’s arm. “What do you need help with?”

Blaine sighs once more before looking back up at Kurt. “Can he stay the night with us? It would just be one night, so I can finish getting him set up with the rental car and then he’d be gone in the morning, I swear. And I would make sure he stays in my room, he won’t touch any of the stuff in the living room or the kitchen. And he’ll wash his hands, stay six feet away, the whole nine yards, I promise,” he says all in one breath, inhaling deeply once he finishes, gauging Kurt’s reaction.

Kurt smiles — he can’t help it, Blaine is adorable when he’s nervous. He’s so completely enamored by him he has to remind himself to actually listen to what Blaine’s saying. The prospect of letting a stranger into their apartment, their safe haven from the chaos of the world, is a bit nerve wracking. But he trusts Blaine — he trusts that he’ll keep them both safe. Besides, the world is a scary enough place even when you know what’s going on — he can’t imagine how terrifying it must be to walk away from a normal, functioning society, and come back out a month later to what the world has become.

“Of course he can stay,” Kurt reassures, laughing when Blaine lets out an enormous sigh of relief.

“Thank you so much, Kurt. I promise I’ll find a way to make this up to you,” Blaine says quickly, pulling Kurt in for a tight hug before rushing back to his room, presumably to continue sorting out his brother’s situation.

Kurt blinks several times in quick succession, his body stiff as a board in the wake of Blaine’s presence. He’s warm all over, skin on fire, nerve endings sizzling — he can still the heat of Blaine’s body, so firm and so strong, against his. He’s grateful for the sound of Blaine’s bedroom door closing — he can’t see the way Kurt has become almost instantly aroused from the most basic of human contact. He inhales sharply, closing his own door to deal with the aching in his jeans. Blaine Anderson is going to be the death of him, he’s sure of it now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This update goes out to mardie186, who proposed the idea of adding Cooper to the mix, and I couldn't resist! Thank you for reading - hoping you and your loved ones are staying safe & sane!


	5. Day Twenty Seven

Blaine goes to great lengths to prepare for his brother, Cooper’s, arrival. Kurt assures Blaine that there’s no need to go overboard — they have a spare set of sheets, plenty of food, and enough toilet paper to last them the week. Despite the reassurance Blaine flits about the apartment for the rest of the evening and throughout the following morning. He makes several trips to the grocery store — returning with a strange variety of snack foods and protein powders and even an impressive collection of facial creams.

“Is your brother a fifteen year old bodybuilder?” Kurt asks jokingly, lifting up a bag of cheese puffs and a tub of whey protein.

“Cooper is _extremely_ particular,” Blaine warns, turning his attention back to unpacking the rest of his groceries.

Kurt considers asking Blaine to elaborate, but can see that he’s already flustered enough as it is, so he helps him unpack instead. When Blaine heads out for a third trip to the store and returns with two bags full of wine Kurt’s brows shoot up to his airline.

“I’m very worried about why your brother needs a full case of wine for a 24 hour layover.”

“Oh don’t worry,” Blaine says with a humorless laugh as he starts stacking the bottles in the fridge. “These are for us.”

And now Kurt is worried that Cooper is actually a serial killer. He relays everything to Rachel in three very long text messages, and she agrees — Blaine is now in the clear, his brother is obviously the murderer.

 _“Who goes on an off the grid yoga retreat in the middle of a pandemic? A serial killer,”_ Rachel concludes. Though Cooper had likely not heard about the virus before heading off on the retreat, Kurt must agree. No sane person likes yoga **that** much.

A quick Google search for “Cooper Anderson” doesn’t yield any helpful results — Kurt spends twenty minutes wading through articles about Anderson Cooper before he gives up. Blaine is on edge, jumping at the quietest of sounds, up until the moment Cooper arrives. When the shrill doorbell pierces the quiet of the apartment around noon Blaine rushes to the door, tapping his foot anxiously as he buzzes Cooper in and waits for him to climb up the two flights of stairs.

Cooper Anderson enters the apartment with a flourish. Blaine immediately ushers him into the bathroom to wash his hands for two full rounds of 'happy birthday' - which Cooper doesn't understand the importance of, but obliges nonetheless. Once his hands washed and dried he brushes right past Blaine and into the living room, setting down his bag and stretching out his arms. Kurt, curled up in his favorite armchair, looks up from his book to greet their guest. Cooper is definitely not what he expected — a booming presence, standing well over six feet tall. Much like his brother, he’s an unbelievable type of handsome, the kind of man Kurt was previously convinced didn’t exist. He looks like the type of men Kurt would cut out of magazines during high school, gazing and pining lovingly as he added them to his vision board. How is it possible that the Anderson family has managed to produce two of the most attractive men to ever grace Kurt’s presence?

“Well, hello there, stranger!” Cooper says once he catches sight of Kurt, who’s still too stunned by Cooper’s objective beauty to be a polite and welcoming host. Cooper crosses the living room and holds out his hand to Kurt. “Cooper Anderson, pleasure to finally meet you,” he says with a wink that makes Kurt swoon.

Kurt is too struck by Cooper's beauty to do much else but shake his head at the outstretched hand in front of him. Blaine rushes back into the room, his gaze quickly flashing from Kurt to Cooper and back again.

"Cooper, no handshaking, we went over this!" he scolds, pushing Cooper's arm down to his side.

“Right, right. And look, all it took was a pandemic for you to finally let me meet Sebastian. And you didn’t even introduce me!” Cooper teases once Blaine appears at his side.

Kurt finally comes back to reality, free from Cooper’s spell. Sebastian? Blaine’s never mentioned a Sebastian before. Unless… _oh._

Every visible inch of Blaine has gone red as Cooper slips an arm around his little brother’s shoulders.

“C’mon, squirt! You date a guy for two years and you can’t even introduce your big brother? What happened to those school boy manners?” Cooper squeezes Blaine’s shoulders, completely oblivious to the obvious distress Blaine is under.

Kurt decides to be a generous roommate and help Blaine out of the situation. “... My name is Kurt.”

Cooper’s eyes go wide as he turns to look at Kurt and then back to Blaine, who has gone from flustered to angry in seconds.

“My bad…” Cooper offers, but the damage has already been done.

“I told you **three** times that Sebastian and I broke up, Cooper,” Blaine spits out of the corner of his mouth, unlooping himself from Cooper’s arm.

“I’m sorry, B! It’s been a busy two months!” Cooper pleads, following behind Blaine as he scoops up Cooper’s duffel bag and storms off to his room.

Kurt gathers up his things and retreats to his room as discreetly as he can — leaving Blaine and Cooper to sort out their issues with as much privacy as possible. He closes the door behind him, leaning against it with a smile. So, Blaine’s ex is named Sebastian. Now _that_ is an interesting development.

* * *

Kurt doesn’t emerge from his bedroom until Blaine texts him that the coast is clear — apologizing for Cooper’s behavior and his own outburst. Kurt replies assuring him that it’s more than alright before peeking his head out into the living room. Cooper is sprawled out on the couch, munching on the cheese puffs Blaine purchased for him, while Blaine sits primly on the edge of the armchair beside him.

“Kurt!” Cooper announces once he catches sight of him — Blaine blushing almost instantly. “Care to join us for a round of Settlers of Catan?” he proposes, swinging himself into an upright position.

“Sure.”

Blaine looks wary as he heads to his bedroom to grab the game. He keeps looking over his shoulder at Kurt and Cooper until he’s out of sight, rushing back to them as quickly as he can. They set up the game on the dining table — Cooper offering his cheese puffs around, both Kurt and Blaine politely declining. The game is going smoothly, and Kurt is doing far better than he’d anticipated given it’s his first time playing. He’s still not entirely sure how the mechanics of the game works, but all he knows is he desperately needs some ore.

Things begin to unravel when Blaine announces that he’s built another road, securing him the final card he needs to come out victorious. Cooper throws his cards down on the table in a rage, accusing Blaine of cheating. They go back and forth for twenty minutes about the validity of Blaine’s strategy until the argument ends with Cooper flipping over the board, the pieces scattering all over the carpet. Cooper storms off to Blaine’s room, slamming the door behind him. Blaine lets his head hit the dining table with a noisy thunk. Kurt doesn’t have much to do besides sit there awkwardly, so he begins collecting the discarded pieces.

“I’m sorry,” Blaine says after five minutes of silence, his voice muffled by the wood of the table.

“It’s alright. My relationship with my step-brother is complicated,” he replies with a shrug. He and Finn had a very similar meltdown over a game of Monopoly during their first month of living under one roof. It had ended with Kurt threatening to stick his thimble figurine up Finn’s ass.

“He’s usually not this annoying, I swear,” Blaine says, finally lifting his head up off of the table. He sighs when Kurt shoots him a knowing look. “Alright, he usually is. But in a more bearable way.”

“I can hear you!” Cooper shouts from Blaine’s room.

Blaine rolls his eyes as his brother storms back into the living room, having applied a face mask in the few minutes he was gone.

“I will have you know that I have been described by several publications as a _delight,_ ” he protests, pointing a finger determinedly at Blaine. “Including Thespian weekly,” he adds for emphasis.

Kurt stifles a giggle behind his hand, doing his best to remain unnoticed by busying himself with putting away the game pieces. Blaine and Cooper go back and forth for several more minutes about Cooper’s attitude, Kurt managing to escape to the kitchen to begin preparing himself dinner.

The Anderson brothers have tired themselves out when Kurt emerges from the kitchen with two plates of reheated leftovers. He passes one of the plates over to Blaine, who shoots him a grateful smile. Cooper had already prepared himself a “protein packed and delectable” dinner of steak and greens earlier, but thanks to the madness of the board game incident Blaine had yet to make dinner for himself. Blaine returns the favor by passing Kurt a glass of generously poured white wine. Cooper turns down a glass for himself, citing that wine after 5pm gives him indigestion.

They go back and forth about what to watch before retiring for the evening. Kurt mostly stays out of the conversation, he’s not picky and _really_ doesn’t want to get stuck in the middle of another argument. Blaine suggests _Looper_ — he’s on a Rian Johnson kick after he and Kurt watched _Knives Out_ last week — but Cooper isn’t in the mood for sci-fi. Cooper suggests watching the _Schitt’s Creek_ finale, but Blaine is three episodes behind and doesn’t want to be spoiled. They wind up watching _Tiger King,_ both Kurt and Blaine not bothering to protest about having already seen the series — Blaine and Cooper have been going back and forth for almost thirty minutes and they just want to watch something already.

Even _Tiger King_ proves to be volatile for Cooper and Blaine. Cooper is enthralled by the series, balking and gasping at all of the appropriate moments. Surprisingly, he sides with Carole Baskin even after the documentary turns a critical eye on her. He insists that there’s no way she killed her husband, which Blaine naturally debates. Kurt bites his lip as he watches the two grow more and more heated, Blaine’s cheeks slowly going red again as he cites the evidence pointing to Carole as her husband’s killer. He considers retreating to his room before either of them can notice, but he can’t lie, it’s pretty entertaining to watch two fully grown men argue over a tiger-obsessed woman. He does sneak away for a second, but it’s just to pour himself another glass of wine.

Blaine had liberally refilled his own glass multiple times throughout the evening, which Kurt is sure has contributed greatly to the latest ongoing argument. Blaine is red in the face by the time Cooper puts an end to things by insisting that he can’t work himself up so intensely before bed, exiting the living room with a flourish. Once the door closes behind Cooper Blaine pulls a throw pillow over his face and screams into it as loudly as he can.

“I know I said my relationship with my step-brother is complicated, but it is definitely not this complicated,” Kurt says once Blaine is done screaming, hoping to lighten the mood a bit.

“God, Kurt, I’m so sorry,” Blaine apologizes as he removes the pillow from his face. “You shouldn’t have to be stuck with all of this,” he murmurs, now burying his face in his hands.

Kurt does a bad job of stifling his laughter, leaning over to Blaine and patting his knee. “Please stop apologizing, this is the most entertainment I’ve had in weeks.”

Blaine peeks up at Kurt between his fingers, smiling shyly and glancing down to where Kurt’s hand is still resting on his knee. Kurt blushes, quickly pulling his hand back to himself and taking a larger gulp of his wine than usual. He has a tendency to get touchy when he’s had too much to drink.

“At least someone’s getting some enjoyment out of all of this,” Blaine says with a shrug before lifting himself up and heading towards the hall closet.

He returns with an armful of sheets and pillows, tossing them onto an end table and beginning to unfold the sheets onto the couch.

“Is Cooper sleeping on the couch tonight?” Kurt asks in confusion.

He’d been under the impression that Cooper and Blaine would be spending the night together in Rachel’s bed. Kurt had once judged her decision to invest in a King sized mattress that practically took up half of her room, but it proved to come in handy in situations like these. The couch can barely fit two people comfortably — someone Cooper’s size would have more limbs dangling off of the couch than on it if they decided to sleep on it.

“No. Cooper has “back issues” and I apparently “kick in my sleep” so he insisted that he get the bed to himself tonight,” Blaine replies with a roll of his eyes, fluffing one of the pillows with unnecessary force.

Kurt bites his lip as he watches Blaine continue setting up the couch. Even someone as compact as Blaine would have a hard time falling asleep on their worn down couch. The cushions have grown suspiciously lumpy over the years, and the arms have always been too firm for comfort. In all his years in their apartment Kurt hasn’t spent more than an hour sitting on the couch if he can help it — all it takes is fifteen minutes for his body to begin to protest. He and Rachel had been meaning to buy a replacement, but they continually put it off. Every time they found an option they liked they were immediately turned off by the price tag.

He feels guilty — Blaine is still too new to his home to know that the couch is sent from Hell itself. They no longer have an air mattress on hand — Rachel had accidentally popped their previous one in a mishap involving a rake and a whole lot of potting soil. There’s only one viable option left that won’t leave Blaine in immense discomfort… or at least not physical discomfort.

“You… could stay with me tonight… if you want?” Kurt offers hesitantly, the rational part of his brain screaming at him to stop while he’s ahead. Why would Blaine want to share a bed with him, a person he’s known for barely a month? These are trying times but they’re not _that_ trying.

Blaine blinks at Kurt’s suggestion, mouth opening and closing twice before lets out a drawn out “uh.” Kurt wants to _die._ He wants to melt into the floor, vanish into thin air, he never wants to be seen again by anyone in the world, but especially not by Blaine.

“I’m sorry, it was a stupid idea, forget I said anything,” he says in one quick breath, folding his arms around himself defensively and attempting to run off to his room.

Blaine blocks his path, sliding between Kurt and the doorway to his room. Kurt stumbles back, nearly tripping on a pulled up edge of the rug. Blaine reaches out and grabs his arms just in time, steadying him and helping him recollect his balance. Kurt tries not to dwell on the sparks that sizzle and crack at the simple touch of Blaine’s hands on him, but when he realizes that there’s now very little distance between them it becomes impossible to ignore.

“It’s not a stupid idea… I just don’t want to be more of a bother than I already am,” Blaine explains — still holding Kurt by the arms, still so close to him Kurt worries Blaine can hear the way his blood is rushing and his heart is pounding.

“You’re not a bother,” Kurt reassures, biting his lip as Blaine finally releases his hold on him.

“Okay,” Blaine replies, suddenly breathless.

“Okay.”

Kurt’s reply is unnecessary, but it’s the only thing he can think to do. Blaine smiles at him, blushing and sheepishly running his fingers through his hair.

“Guess I’ll go put the spare sheets away.”

Kurt nods and there’s a moment of awkwardness in which they’re both standing and staring at one another, unsure of what to do. Blaine mumbles a quick apology and steps out of Kurt’s way, making his way back to the couch while Kurt heads into his room. He pulls his phone out of his pocket to send a quick text to Rachel, filling her in on his unexpected predicament, to which she responds seconds later with a series of question marks and exclamation points. He swallows hard, pocketing his phone and glancing back into the living room. Blaine looks up from the fitted sheet he’s struggling to fold back up again and shoots him a shy smile.

This is either the best idea he’s ever had, or the worst.

* * *

They both get ready for bed in silence. Blaine showers and changes before surrendering the bathroom to Kurt. Blaine mumbles something about waiting in Kurt’s room for him, but all Kurt can think to do is smile and nod. He takes extra time going through his already lengthy nightly skin routine. His skin isn’t taking kindly to his sudden burst of nerves, plus scrubbing at his skin gives his shaking hands something to do. He takes several deep, calming breaths before he leaves the bathroom, giving himself a quick pep talk in the mirror.

“You can do this. He’s **just** a boy. Who is in your bed. To sleep. And that’s it,” Kurt tells himself unconvincingly, groaning as he accepts his fate and makes his way back to his room.

Blaine is propped up against the headboard, casually scrolling through his phone. Kurt’s not sure how he’s never noticed that Blaine manages to make even a dingy t-shirt and pajama pants look so incredibly attractive, but it’s impossible not to notice now.

Kurt shuffles about the room, setting up his phone to charge and laying out his outfit for tomorrow before finally switching off the overhead lights and crawling into bed. His heart is pounding so loud it even drowns out the usual sound of cars, sirens, and the occasional pedestrian outside his window.

“Thank you again for doing this, you really didn’t have to,” Blaine whispers into the darkness between them.

“Your joints will thank me in the morning.”

Blaine laughs, and Kurt’s heart soars. He can hear Blaine shifting, turning onto his side so that he’s facing Kurt. There’s still a completely platonic amount of space between them, but just the fact that they’re here, together, laying in his bed is making Kurt’s head spin.

“I meant for everything. Letting me come into your apartment, welcoming me… You’ve already done more for me than any of my old roommates ,” he clarifies. Kurt can see the bright white of his smile even in the darkness.

The smug part of Kurt wonders if that includes his most recent ex-roommate, Sebastian, but he pushes that thought to the back of his mind.

“Well, I like having you around. So it’s a win/win for me,” Kurt replies with a shrug.

The silence stretches on, Kurt’s skin prickling as he waits for Blaine to reply. He shifts, averting his gaze from Blaine when he realizes he might not have a response, that maybe he’s finally gone too far.

“I like having you around too.”

As soon as the words are out of his mouth Blaine is sliding closer to Kurt. He’s not quite in Kurt’s space, he still leaves some distance between them — but he’s there, so, _so_ close and all it would take is a leap of faith to close that distance.

“Oh,” Kurt whispers, shivering as Blaine shifts closer.

He can feel Blaine’s breath, he can smell the notes of white wine that he’s sure lingers on his lips. All he needs to do is lean forward, all he needs to do is…

“Blaaaine! I can’t get this humidifier to work!”

Cooper’s voice cutting through the silence is like an ice bath. Kurt and Blaine jump, retreating to their respective sides of the bed. They’re both gasping for breath, their chests heaving as Blaine springs to his feet.

“Sorry, I uh… I need to help him,” he mumbles, Kurt nodding even if he knows Blaine can’t see him in the darkness.

Blaine sounds as though he’s going to say something else, but instead he shuffles out of the room, closing the door behind him. Kurt flops onto his back, staring up at the ceiling and willing his mind to slow down for just one second. Had he made up the entire thing? Had Blaine actually been inches away or had he just imagined that he’d been there, so close and ready and willing for something, anything to happen? Has the madness of quarantine finally set in? He rubs his palms against his eyes, groaning as he realizes that the five seconds of being in close proximity to Blaine has made his cock twitch with interest. Why did his body have to resort to desperation for physical contact now of all times?

He rolls over to face the wall, squeezing his eyes shut, curling into a ball and conjuring up the most grotesque images he can think of — the time he caught Rachel and Finn making out, his dad giving him the “you matter” talk, his now deceased grandma in a bikini.

It takes a surprising amount of effort to calm himself down — every time he thinks he’s there he flashes back to that moment, to the warmth of Blaine’s breath intermingling with his, and he has to start all over again. He doesn’t even notice that Blaine has somehow slipped back into the room and under the covers by the time he’s thoroughly de-aroused. He freezes, waiting to see if Blaine is still awake. But then he hears the covers rustle. He peeks over his shoulder to see Blaine facing away from him, his chest slowly rising and falling. Kurt bites his lip as he turns onto his stomach, eyes still lingering on Blaine’s back. He’s not sure if he’s disappointed or relieved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SURPRISE THERE'S ONLY BED WEEEEE


	6. Day Twenty Eight - ?

Kurt barely gets any sleep. At first he blames it on the three glasses of wine, but as he continues to toss and turn at close to three in the morning he realizes he’s too wound up with nerves to sleep. He’s fixated on keeping to his side of the bed, not trusting himself not to roll over to Blaine’s side once he’s fully asleep. He’s been told in the past that he has a tendency to hog the covers, so he continually checks to make sure he and Blaine each have an equal amount. He’s worried that maybe he’s suddenly started snoring in the past few months and no one has been in his bed to discover it. He’s worried he’ll find a way to embarrass himself even when he isn’t awake. He does eventually fall asleep, but he rockets out of the bed the moment his body stirs, just the slightest bit awake.

He knows that it’s far too early to be awake on a Saturday — the sun still hasn’t risen high enough for the morning sunshine to stream through his window. He stands up so quickly it makes him light headed, having to brace himself against the closet handle. He glances down at his bed — Blaine is still blissfully asleep, curled up in a ball and tucked into the covers. It’s adorable, and if Kurt wasn’t’ so concerned about the awkward fumble of waking up beside his (platonic, but maybe almost kissed last night(?)) roommate, he would crawl back into bed.

He sets off to the kitchen to start up a pot of coffee — he always desperately needs caffeine in the morning, but especially today. He sits in his usual armchair, curled up with his mug scrolling through his phone until he’s refreshed his various feeds in vain at least twice. It’s still too early for anyone else to be up and posting content. He decides making breakfast would be the best use of his time, looking up a recipe for blueberry crêpes he’s been meaning to try and setting off to work.

Cooper stumbles out of Blaine’s room not long after, sniffing at the air and letting the smell of coffee and breakfast guide him.

“Good morning, Not Sebastian,” Cooper teases as he takes a seat at the kitchen counter, looking unfairly handsome for such an ungodly hour.

“Good morning, Not Blaine,” Kurt replies, the two sharing a laugh as Kurt sets down a mug in front of Cooper.

“I really am sorry about yesterday. Blaine may exaggerate a lot about me, but I really could do a better job of listening to him,” he admits shyly.

Kurt shrugs, pouring Cooper a cup of coffee before returning to the stove.

“If it’s any consolation I like you better than I imagine I would’ve liked Sebastian,” Cooper adds.

Kurt tries not to let his interest look too piqued, keeping calm as he focuses on the crêpes as he replies. “Is that so?”

“Mhm. And I think Blaine likes you more than he liked Sebastian too.”

Kurt nearly burns his wrist on the edge of the pan as he jumps in surprise, dropping his spatula onto the ground without an ounce of grace or composure.

“H-he said that?” he stutters out, giving up on trying to look uninterested as he picks up the spatula from the ground.

Cooper laughs around the rim of his coffee cup, taking a sip before putting his hands up in the air defensively. “You didn’t hear it from me.”

Kurt nods, biting his lip and returning his attention to breakfast. They drop the subject, Cooper moving on to a new topic (himself). Kurt doesn’t dwell on that tidbit of knowledge, knowing he won’t be able to think about anything else for the rest of the day if he does. He tucks it away for later, letting his heart flutter and savor the moment before he does.

Cooper chats with him amicably while Kurt finishes off the crêpes, Cooper letting out a childish giggle when Kurt sets a plate in front of him. Cooper is far easier to talk to than Kurt would’ve expected given yesterday's events. Cooper reveals that he’s an actor living in Los Angeles — Kurt gasps when he realizes he recognizes Cooper from a credit score commercial that had aired nonstop last year. They talk about their performance backgrounds, and their families back in Ohio. Cooper is impressed when Kurt reveals that he and Rachel had gone to NYADA together — Kurt letting himself preen for a second or two.

When Blaine finally steps out into the living room nearly an hour later he stops dead in his tracks at the sight of Kurt and Cooper chatting and laughing in the kitchen. He’s looking frantically from Cooper to Kurt and back when they notice his presence.

“Morning, Squirt!” Cooper calls out, slapping Blaine on the back as he slides into the seat next to him, still sending wary looks Kurt’s way. “I was just telling Kurt here all of your embarrassing childhood stories.”

“What?!” Blaine snaps.

Kurt giggles behind his hand as he prepares a fresh plate of crêpes for Blaine.

“Kidding, kidding, relax,” Cooper assures, but Blaine still looks frazzled.

They eat in silence, waiting until Blaine has both calmed down and woken up to pick things back up. Cooper doesn’t mercilessly tease his brother this time around, and the conversation is _actually_ pleasant. Kurt was beginning to think it wasn’t possible for Cooper and Blaine to go more than fifteen minutes without disagreeing about something. At first he’d thought of them as polar opposites, but he begins to see the similarities between them. They have the same laugh, high pitched and booming. They wear their emotions on their sleeve — Cooper more so than Blaine. They both usher Kurt out of the kitchen when he goes to wash the dishes, insisting that they’ll tackle cleaning up.

Kurt’s wary to turn over kitchen duties to the two of them, not trusting that another fight won’t break out the moment he leaves the room, but they promise that they’ll be on their best behavior. Kurt reluctantly agrees, but keeps a close eye on them from his place in the living room. When he returns from a trip to the bathroom the Anderson brothers are singing along to the Beatles in perfect harmony, Blaine washing each dish with Cooper drying. It’s absolutely adorable — so adorable Kurt has to resist the urge to film them, not wanting to risk ruining the moment.

After breakfast Blaine flits around the apartment, preparing everything for Cooper’s journey back to Ohio. He prints out a map with walking directions to the garage where he’ll be picking up his rental car, and goes over it three times with him before he heads out (he doesn’t trust Cooper with Google Maps). He packs Cooper a bag with enough snacks to survive him a week. The plan is for him to drive straight to Westerville, a journey that should take nearly 9 hours without traffic. Cooper continuously whines, asking Blaine why he can’t stop somewhere along the way to rest and pick up the rest of the journey tomorrow, but Blaine insists that he make the trip in one go. They can’t risk him stopping off somewhere and exposing himself anymore than he already has, and in turn exposing their parents. Cooper still hasn’t fully grasped the severity of the situation in his 24 hours back on the grid, but Blaine does his best to catch him up to speed.

When the door finally closes behind Cooper, who makes as dramatic an exit as he’d made an entrance, Blaine lets out a sigh of relief and collapses against the front door.

“Have I told you how sorry I am?” Blaine calls out to Kurt, leaning his head back against the door and closing his eyes.

“Only about a hundred times,” Kurt replies with a chuckle, setting his laptop aside and approaching Blaine in the hallway. He offers his hand out to Blaine, helping him pull himself back up from the floor.

“Great, that means I only have a hundred left to go,” he teases, brushing off his jeans. “Seriously, is there any way I can repay you?”

Kurt hums as he considers Blaine’s request. He _really_ doesn’t want to have to clean the bathroom this weekend, but that would be too easy. Teasing Blaine is far more fun.

“You could be at my beck and call for any of my frivolous whims?” he proposes with a smirk.

“Deal,” Blaine replies quickly.

“Huh, I didn’t expect you to sign yourself up for indentured servitude so easily,” Kurt teases, sitting back in his armchair and pulling his laptop back onto his lap.

“I don’t see you needing me for much of anything. You’re a better cook and a better baker, you clean more thoroughly, you can sew, you can solve a puzzle five times faster than me, you put together amazing outfits even during a quarantine, _and_ you don’t have a childish fear of using a vacuum cleaner. You’re practically perfect.”

Kurt is stunned, his mouth slightly agape as he listens to Blaine rattle off his best qualities. He’s surprised he hasn’t melted down into a lovestruck puddle of goo, or worse. Blaine goes pink when he realizes Kurt is staring at him, rubbing at his neck as he laughs it off nervously.

“ _Practically_ perfect?” Kurt asks once he’s finally able to find his voice again.

Blaine grins, leaning in to whisper, “I’m better than you at Mario Kart.”

Kurt’s not sure what it is — whether it’s how close Blaine is already, not closer than he’d been last night but close enough, or whether it’s the high of hearing Blaine sing his praises, or if it’s the desperation for any kind of meaningful contact with another human being — but he finally closes the distance.

The kiss isn’t perfect by any means, it’s off center and dry and Kurt’s neck is bent at an awkward angle — but it blows Kurt away. It reignites a fire in him that has been out for years — it’s exciting and overwhelming and everything he has been waiting and wishing for. But Blaine is stiff, unmoving in the kiss and still even after they break apart. Kurt goes from exhilarated to sick in seconds, wondering if he’d misread all of the signs.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, shaking his head and preparing to run off to his room and hide for the foreseeable future, until Blaine takes hold of his wrist.

“Don’t be,” he whispers, and this time it’s his turn to take the leap of faith.

Their second kiss is _perfect._ It’s both warm and blisteringly hot and desperate and achingly sweet. Blaine holds Kurt in place, cradling his jaw as he leans in closer. They kiss again and again, taking their time learning one another. Kurt lets his hands travel along the unexplored territory of Blaine’s chest before moving on to his arms, which are just as taut and firm as they’d been in his daydreams.

He’s not entirely sure how they end up on the floor — he remembers Blaine tugging on the collar of his shirt, pulling him in. How he winds up straddling Blaine’s waist, kissing and sucking at his collarbone is a mystery that he doesn’t care to solve.

“Jesus, Kurt,” Blaine hisses as Kurt scrapes his teeth just a tad too harshly against his pulse point.

“Sorry, been thinking about doing this for so long,” he mumbles against Blaine’s skin.

“Me too,” Blaine confesses. Kurt’s too busy trying to kiss every exposed inch of Blaine that he can to dwell on this reveal, but the non-hormone driven side of him is pleased.

There’s no hesitation as they begin to reach for buttons and zippers — this is typically the stage where Kurt becomes the most withdrawn, his confidence fading the moment he’s put on display for someone else, but that doesn’t happen with Blaine. They’re built on weeks of pining, of stolen looks and and hidden desires — this is what Kurt’s been hoping for, he doesn’t have to be nervous. He has everything he could ever want.

Kurt wastes no time trailing his lips down every newly exposed patch of skin, stopping to lap at Blaine’s taut nipples before continuing his journey further south. He mouths at Blaine’s cock through the fabric of his underwear — they’ve waited for this for weeks, they have time for a little teasing.

He only gives in when Blaine lets out a breathless “Please, Kurt” that sends shocks of pleasure straight to his own cock. He palms himself once or twice before turning his attention fully back to Blaine. He peels away Blaine’s final layer and eagerly wraps his lips around his cock — which also lives up to his daydreams.

Kurt is well aware that he’s particularly talented when it comes to his mouth — but it feels especially rewarding when Blaine is reduced to a mess of begs and pleas for more. He’s completely fallen victim to the spell of Kurt’s mouth, grasping for purchase in the carpet beneath them to better resist the urge to entangle his fingers in Kurt’s pristine hair. Kurt has to give Blaine credit — he knows better than to mess with his hair, even when he’s desperate for more friction.

Kurt lets Blaine fall apart under him, taking his sweet time dragging his lips along the length of his cock, pumping him in time with each drag of his lips and tongue. He waits until he’s sure Blaine is right at his edge until he pushes himself to his own limit, taking in more of Blaine than he’s even confident he can handle. He inhales sharply, Blaine breathlessly muttering a series of profanities as he gives in and reaches out to grasp Kurt’s shoulder tightly. He comes with a cry of Kurt’s name on his lips, blinking up at the ceiling and struggling to catch his breath as Kurt pulls off of him with a wickedly sultry pop.

“I can’t believe it,” Blaine murmurs, eyes still fixed on the ceiling.

“Hm?” Kurt asks as he slots himself on top of Blaine, resting his head on his chest — his own still aching cock pressed firm against Blaine’s hip.

“We could’ve been doing this for weeks,” he says exasperatedly.

Kurt can’t help but laugh, his giggles melting into moans as Blaine kisses him hard, pinning him to the ground and sliding down, down, down his body to return the favor.

* * *

“Blaaaaine,” Kurt whines, batting away Blaine, who’s been nipping at the sensitive spot just behind his ear for the past five minutes. “C’mon, I’m already in the waiting room,” he complains, gesturing to where his laptop sits on the coffee table.

“Tell them you’ll join late,” Blaine whispers, teeth tugging at Kurt’s earlobe.

Kurt’s eyes close as he lets out a quiet, breathy moan. In just a week Blaine has managed to learn with expert precision exactly how to reduce him to pieces. His cock twitches with interest in his skintight jeans, Kurt willing the arousal to die down quickly — the last thing he wants is a hard on while on a virtual happy hour with his girl friends.

“I joined late last week.”

“You and I weren’t doing _this_ last week,” Blaine reasons, taking Kurt’s chin and tilting him down for a proper kiss.

Kurt knows he’s been caught when the sounds of Rachel’s squeals suddenly blare from his laptop. Blaine grins into the kiss, not bothering to pull away until he’s good and ready. Their cheeks are flushed as they pull apart and turn to face their audience of one.

“Tell. Me. Everything.”

* * *

It took a few weeks for Isabelle to adapt to working remotely — technology just isn’t her strong suit. At first Kurt assumed that her screen had been frozen during their usual editorial team meeting — that’s why she had such a puzzled look on her face the entire meeting. When her puzzled expression morphs into one of scrutiny during his afternoon check in with her, he assumes the worst. He’s not sure how the powers that be behind Vogue.com have been impacted by the quarantine — but it’s certainly possible that they could be cutting staff to keep costs down.

“If I’m getting fired can you please tell me now so I can exit gracefully,” he blurts out in the middle of going through Isabelle’s weekly to-do list.

To his relief, Isabelle breaks out into her signature belly laugh, slapping her hand down on her desk and wiping a tear from the corner of her eye. “Oh, sweet Kurt, you never fail to surprise me.”

Kurt laughs nervously, still not entirely sure what’s going on.

“Enough about work. Let’s take a second to talk about you,” she says, her smile kind and calm. “You seem different these past two weeks. You’re the most chipper quarantined employee I’ve seen,” she teases, chuckling as Kurt ducks his head shyly.

“I… uh, my roommate and I have been getting along really well lately,” he admits. He and Isabelle are friendly, but still maintain a professional working relationship. She knew about Kurt’s surprise quarantine roommate, but he’d left out the lovesick details of his pining over the past several weeks.

“Is that what the kids are calling it these days?” she asks with a raised brow. “Getting along?”

Kurt snorts, shaking his head — grateful that Blaine isn’t around to eavesdrop. He props his fist up on his cheek, hiding his blush.

“It’s not like that,” he says whimsically.

He and Blaine have never been just about sex. Sure, it took up the majority of their time the first three days after they crossed that threshold — and still consumes a good chunk of their time two weeks later — but there’s always been more. There are sweet kisses across the counter at breakfast, lunch, and dinner. There are evenings spent in comfortable silence, arms steadfast around one another. There are talks about the past and the future well into the night. There are plans, endless plans, for when the world is no longer on hold.

They haven’t put a label on it, they don’t feel the need to just yet. Kurt doesn’t think there will ever be an appropriate word in any language to describe what he and Blaine have — something so wonderful just the mere thought of it fills every part of him with joy.

“Well, I want details once we’re out of this lockdown and can have drinks at an actual bar like proper adults.” Isabelle blows him a kiss and gives him a wink before ending their call.

Kurt sighs as he pushes away from his laptop, making his way towards Blaine’s bedroom. He follows the sound of his voice, grinning as he lingers in the doorway. Blaine is set up on the edge of the bed, guitar in hand, strumming away and singing a slowed down version of Katy Perry’s _Teenage Dream_ to his students. Kurt knows better than to linger too long while Blaine is working — he’s prepared to walk back to the living room when Blaine looks away from his laptop for just a moment to shoot Kurt a brilliant smile.

_“Don’t ever look back, don’t ever look back.”_

The future is still uncertain, and at times that uncertainty can feel dark and scary. But now, the future has Blaine, will always have Blaine — and that makes everything just a little bit brighter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there ya have it! Thank you so much to everyone who followed along on this short & sweet journey - your support truly means so much! I hope you're all remaining safe and healthy!
> 
> I may start up a new quarantine fic, this time following canon!Klaine because I have NOTHING BUT TIME these days WOOOOO


End file.
